


Investigative Techniques

by coolbyrne



Category: NCIS
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:27:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24718264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coolbyrne/pseuds/coolbyrne
Summary: In the process of solving a case, Gibbs finds some personal answers, too. Slibbs
Relationships: Jethro Gibbs/Jacqueline "Jack" Sloane
Comments: 31
Kudos: 156





	Investigative Techniques

**Author's Note:**

> Standard 'Recreating the crime scene leads to sexual tension' trope, but I really think this is one of the few ways we're going to get movement on Slibbs on the show!

He tossed his glasses onto the coffee table and flopped back into the couch, pressing his palms against his eyes. She pretended not to notice his frustration, knowing her attention wouldn’t help, coupled with the fact that she had more than enough frustration of her own. The case had been inexplicably difficult for something that had appeared, on the surface, to be fairly straightforward, and had burned everyone’s fuse -especially his- down to the nub. Surprising the team, he had sent them home early, in the hopes that recharging their batteries would bring back fresh ideas in the morning, and she quietly patted herself on the back for finding just the right balance of soft and stern to persuade him into the decision. Part of it was no doubt due to her promise of steaks, which they had finished about an hour ago before retiring to the couch and the case. She knew he’d never truly be able to let it go until it was solved, but having him in his home, casual in his hoodie, comfortable in his beer, was an acceptable concession. It was a habit she was growing accustomed to, and had she been able to look at it from an outsider’s perspective, she might have remarked on the domestic turn their relationship seemed to have taken over the last few months, without either of them really noticing how much she came for dinner, how often she stayed the night, even if it was the guest room. But her participation didn’t allow the close inspection; or maybe she didn’t want to examine it too closely, for fear that it might disappear under the spotlight.

With her attention waning and her vision blurring, she, too, took off her glasses and closed her eyes.

“We need to identify the blood droplet found on the victim.”

Her voice made him lift his head. “Ya think?” Her eyebrow rose at his caustic tone and he must have recognized it, too, because he stood and apologized with a touch on her knee. “‘Nother beer?”

“Coffee still hot?”

He glanced at his watch. “Should be.”

“Did you pick up more sugar when you went grocery shopping?”

His mouth twitched. “Yeah, I picked up more sugar.”

She grinned. “Then I’d like a coffee. Four sugars. Not the 2 and a half you keep trying to wean me down to.” He walked away without comment and she called out to his back, “I mean it!”

…..

He cracked his neck to the left then to the right before reaching for the mugs in the cupboard. His body groaned at the reminder of the long days and the even longer years and he sighed as he watched himself scoop the third spoon of sugar into the coffee. She didn’t deserve his shortness, yet she bore the brunt of the harder parts of his nature with an ease that somehow calmed him. Her mere presence brought a quiet to his mind, and when she was there, in his home, he could almost convince himself there was more. With a clenched jaw, he chastised himself for the passive avoidance; he knew he could make it more, knew the smile she saved just for him would spread across her face if he just went into the living room and-

“Four, Gibbs!” she yelled out.

The cloud over his head was brushed away by her words, and in so many ways, he was happy to give her what she wanted.

…..

When he returned, he knew that aside from making sure her coffee was just right, she had been pondering the case, because she was on her feet and pacing.

“Good,” she said, taking the coffee and putting it on the table. “Wait.” She lifted the mug and took a sip. He watched her approval light up her eyes. “You’re lucky.”

“In so many ways,” he quipped. 

Putting the mug back down and doing the same with his, she said, “There’s something right there.” She pointed to her head. “Like a big clue is just on the tip of my brain.”

“Okay. Not sure why I have to sacrifice my coffee, though.”

She looked up from her feet and slapped his chest. “Because I need you to help me re-enact the crime scene.” Immediately laying on the couch, she said, “It’s not quite a bed, but it’ll do. Now, grab my wrists.”

“Jack-”

“Petty Officer Nesbitt was found on her back in her bed, with signs of bruising all along her arms, indicating she was held down.” 

Oblivious to his hesitation, she impatiently waved him over before putting her arms in front of her chest in a defensive position. Reluctantly, he went to the couch and knelt on the floor, much to his knees protestations. His big hands circled her wrists and he waited for the next move.

She shook her head. “No. She was pinned down. You’re at the wrong angle. Come up here.” Tugging at his hoodie prevented any escape. He said her name again, but she was having none of it. “We’re going to solve this, Gibbs.”

Putting aside his own jumbled emotions for the sake of the case, he gingerly stood, then pressed his left knee between her thigh and the back of the couch while accommodating the lack of size by leaving his right foot on the floor. 

“Close enough,” she said. “Now press down.” His face went dark at the thought of possibly hurting her, and she fended off the concern immediately. “You won’t hurt me. I know you won’t.”

Wouldn’t. Couldn’t. But it didn’t stop him from hesitating. Still, seeing the trust in her eyes gave him permission to do as she asked. Leaning over her, with only their arms between them, he could see the gold flecks in her eyes, could feel her warm breath against his chin. In fact, he could suddenly feel everything, every inch of her that came in contact with every inch of him, from his hands to his waist to the inches below his waist. He smirked at his own dirty mind, even as the rest of his brain was banging on the door, trying to draw his attention to the moment. His soft chuckle died in his throat when she licked her lips, and his brain shouted, ‘Hallelujah!’

He wondered how he’d explain it to anyone who might have come in at that moment, then realized he wouldn’t have to say anything. The way his hands slid up from her wrists to link their fingers together, the gentleness in which he lifted her arms above her head that let him shift lower onto her, those things didn’t need explanation. It was clear what was happening. It was only a matter of whether or not he would let it. He shifted again and the soft moan that escaped her wetted lips made him realize the folly of the assumption- it wasn’t so much as would he let it as it was, could he stop it? Their mouths were so close he’d swear he could taste the sugar on her breath, and suddenly, he was so tired of fighting it.

And clearly, so was she, because he had intended his kiss to be a request, an avenue he could do an U-turn on if she wasn’t receptive. But the second his lips touched hers, she was all in, her hands squeezing his while her mouth granted him every permission he asked, without question, without hesitation. Her lips were cool but her tongue was warm and his peripheral vision blurred, focusing solely on her body under his, her mouth on his, her heart against his. She nudged his left leg straight, bringing their hips together, and the exhale from his lungs was half surprise, all want, a desire she matched by arching into him and releasing a long victorious sigh. When her head pressed back to offer her throat, he took it more forcefully than he had intended, his teeth nicking a path up the taut muscle to her ear where he purposely left a small mark. A small whimper hushed past her lips, but she turned her head to offer more and hooked her leg around his waist, demanding it. He dragged his mouth back to hers and was rewarded when his bottom lip found itself between her teeth and her knee pressed into his ribs, rolling her pelvis up into his until she got the groan she was clearly looking for. She smiled under his lips and he tried to look stern, but when she chased after his mouth, he let her catch it. He knew now he’d let her do anything.

“She headbutted him.”

His mouth paused as he waited for his brain to clear. Against her lips, he said, “That’s how the blood drop got on her cheek.”

The kiss slowed but didn’t fade, even as they both picked up the case’s trail.

“The neighbour!”

“The neighbour.”

The declaration was made in unison and he chased the laughter up her throat with his lips. Blindly, he reached out to the table for his phone, flipped it open and pressed a button.

“McGee,” he said without a preamble. “Ethan Montford had a cut above his nose when we questioned him. He was involved in a paternity test 3 years ago. Get Kasie to run his DNA against the blood drop we found on Petty Officer Nesbitt. We’ll bring him in in the morning.” He snapped the phone shut and tossed it back onto the table.

Jack hadn’t moved the entire time, but if he was worried the shift in the moment might have changed her mind, the way her hands, now free from his, slid under his hoodie dispelled the concern. 

“Hell of an investigative technique you’ve got there, Special Agent.”

With the confidence the past ten minutes had given him, he quipped, “I’ve got a stack of cold cases we should look at,” before his mouth captured her laughter again.

…..

-end


End file.
